Lost Souls
by Kraven Ergeist
Summary: RE-UPLOADED - Siegfried is ready to end it all, when he gets help from an unexpected ally. And in the darkness, chaos is brewing. Will Siegfried give up the struggle, or take up the sword once again?
1. Chapter 1

**Soul Caliber Fan Fiction**

**Lost Souls**

By Kraven Ergeist

Chapter One

The sword was gone. His nightmare was over. Yet still he walked this Earth.

Siegfried stared out at what should have been a beautiful world. He had contributed to the plague that was Soul Edge in its slow, sure quest to cover the land in darkness. But he had repented – he had struck down the cursed sword with his own hands. He had erased that which was evil in the world.

So why did this black planet look so ugly?

He stared at his right gauntleted hand. Once upon a time, it had been a horrible monstrosity, a wicked claw that had spread like pestilence up his arm and to his chest, slowly eating his body away. Even after the cursed sword had been lifted from his body, he imagined the dark claw was still there, a phantom reminder of his curse.

Now, all he saw was metal and leather, which covered soft human flesh. Yet even after he had imagined the claw open to tear at his face, never before had he wanted to dig those metal finger into his own neck and…

Siegfried shuddered. This whole world looked brutal and wrong. His own, human body, which he had for a time spent months wishing to have returned to him, now seemed like a burden to carry around, a weak, rotting corpse that did nothing but hinder him, sending sharp twinges of pain as a thorn snagged his arm or a stone struck his boot, or growl deep within his gut as nourishment was needed. He wanted to just lie down somewhere and sleep forever, but every time he did, his body seemed to betray him, opening his eyes, and tearing at his nerves for whatever it happened to need.

He wanted to die.

He wanted to be rid of this mortal coil.

He had struck down Soul Edge, but there was no telling whether or not it would be back. But one thing was for sure – if it did come back, it would haunt him. He would feel it, whether it wanted anything to do with him or not. His life, which should have been a prize that he had won through hard years of torment, was now spent with the constant expectation that one day, Soul Edge would return, and reclaim the sanity that he had once had. He had nothing to look forward to, and everything to fear.

And he wanted to be rid of it all.

He still had the Requiem, an enormous zweihander, a two handed sword with a sharp, blunt tip with tapered edges. It would be easy to simply throw himself on his own sword and wait for death to claim him. The pain would be excruciating, but his life had been nothing but. Though he supposed that very few people in the world had the luxury of dying in anything other than the thralls of pain.

No one would miss him.

He took the sword in his hand and looked at it. It was a beautiful thing, folded tempered steel, crafted by the finest weapon smiths in the world. No doubt if would fetch a pretty penny to whomever came across his bloodied corpse. Aside from the zweihander, his possessions were remedial, only those provisions needed to keep someone alive out in the wilderness. Perhaps someone would make a profit off his armor, it was in good condition.

He almost laughed. Here he was, considering suicide, and all he could think about was whether his possessions would go to good use. He supposed, at least, he'll have had a positive impact on _somebody_, even if they didn't know it.

He could right every wrong in this world, and still never be cleansed. He had done too much harm to be forgiven. The world was better off without him, and he had no desire to tough it out.

He placed the blade of the sword against his neck. It would hurt, he knew. But it would do the job. One quick slice, and then…

He paused.

Could Soul Edge inhabit the dead? Would this even accomplish anything? Was he only making it easier for Soul Edge to return to this world by snuffing out the last bit of his soul? He had vanquished Soul Edge, hadn't he? If it returned, couldn't he do it again? Could anyone else? He had encountered many a warrior in his life that were all confident that they were a match for the blade. But he had no reason to believe they were. Those he had fought against, he had beaten. And he, himself, was the only one he knew who could defeat Soul Edge.

Perhaps, he truly was the only who could beat it.

Didn't he have an obligation then, to stay alive, and ensure the blade never returned to power? What right did he have to snuff out his own life, when he commanded a considerable amount of power himself? He may not have had the right to live, but it didn't matter – he had a _duty_ to live. And that was more important than anything.

He put down his blade.

"I've found you…"

Siegfried turned. He had thought he was alone for miles. No one came down these roads anymore, and the whether was horrible for travel.

He turned to see who it was, and his eyes widened.

"Isabella…"

"Silence!" the woman in violet shouted. "You have no right to call me by that name!"

Siegfried stood to face the white haired Ivy, her sword held in a tight grip by her side.

"I…" the man gasped. "I had thought you dead."

Ivy smirked. "You would be so fortunate. No, I am very much alive…and I intend to finish what we started one year ago."

Siegfried raised his arms. "Isa…Ivy, wait! The sword is gone!"

She snorted. "Of course it's gone! It's biding its sweet time, preparing to return to wreak havoc! No, Siegfried, its life force is bound to your own! So long as you're alive, Soul Edge shall continue to threaten humanity."

Siegfried shook his head. "I don't believe that. Soul Edge has existed far longer than I have, my life is not of so mch consequence. When one host dies, it moves on to another. I am no different. It even prolongs the host's life, even after their body has died."

Ivy's nostrils flared. She knew exactly who he was referring to – her swine of a father, Cervantes de Leon.

She raised her sword and pointed it at the man in front of her.

"You shut up! I don't recall asking your permission! I will have erased at least one more host for Soul Edge to inhabit."

Siegfried frowned. "I have destroyed Soul Edge before. Should it reappear, so help me, I shall do it again."

Ivy sneered. "Am I to take your word on that?"

Siegfried made an ugly face. "I don't need your validation. Either believe me and move on, or fight me and die."

The Valentine blade uncoiled in her arms.

"Plan B it is!" Ivy growled, launching at him the knight, her whip-like blade twirling menacingly overhead.

Siegfried dropped to one knee, resting his sword point on the ground, balancing it on his arm. The Ivy blade bounced harmlessly off the glistening Requiem, and Siegfried leapt at her, swinging his blade at her feet, clipping her plated knees. She spun head over heels, letting out a shout as she hit the ground.

When she looked up, the blunt nose of the enormous zweihander were inches from her throat.

"This is strike one," the longhaired man said. "Make me count to three, and so help me God, I will kill you."

"Why wait!" Ivy shouted back defiantly, smacking his sword away with hers, bringing it back in whip for, nearly cleaving off his head.

Siegfried recoiled, guarding her attack with the flat of his blade. She brought her sword back, enveloping it around her body, before sending it up into the air. Siegfried tumbled, just in time for the Ivy Blade to sink into the earth at his side.

In an instant, Siegfried was upon her, smacking the butt of his sword at her, which she blocked with her gauntlet. Siegfried then kicked her legs out from under her, before letting his sword hover over her face.

"Strike two…" the man said. "I warn you…"

Ivy was relentless. She back flipped, nailing his chin with her boots, before she plunged her blade into the earth.

Siegfried dodged left and right as the blade came up from the ground beneath his feet. Again and again, he leapt, just barely clearing the razor sharp bits on a thread that shot up from the ground.

With look of fury, Siegfried dodged again and charged her, raising his sword high.

Ivy retracted her blade from the Earth just in time to catch the massive blade with her own, gauntleted hand clutching her sword.

"Walk away, Isabella…" Siegfried growled. "You still have a chance to live your life, away from all this. This is not your fight."

The woman simply glared back. "I told you…"

Throwing him off, Ivy spun her chain blade around in a cyclone around her body.

"Don't call me by that name!"

The whirlwind of blades would have gutted the knight, had he not caught the Valentine blade in a blaze wind, twirling the Requiem around his body, tangling the whip about itself, before he delivered a kick that sent Ivy flying.

The Valentine blade retracted back into sword form, and Siegfried picked it up, before stepping over to Ivy's fallen form.

"This sword…" he said, eying the blade carefully. "It feels…"

"Give that back!" Ivy shouted, getting to her feet, reaching for her stolen weapon.

Siegfried pulled the sword back, putting his own sword point in her path.

"You lost. Thrice. You're lucky I don't kill you."

"If you won't give back my sword, then at least have the decency to give me the death you promised!"

"I have had my fill of death. Alive and unarmed, you are no threat to me."

"I am nothing without it!"

"Perhaps this sword is the problem," Siegfried said. "It's so strangely similar to the cursed blade."

Ivy's eyes glared evilly. "You dare! You dare compare _my_ sword to the Soul Edge!"

Siegfried nodded, sheathing Ivy's sword behind his belt. "Who would know better than I? In any case, your life is already forfeit. You are better off without this fowl imitation."

Ivy felt rage boiling inside her.

"No!"

She lunged at him, sinking her sharp gauntleted fingers into his neck, drawing blood.

"I can still kill you, with or without the sword!" Ivy roared.

Siegfried seized her attacking arm and pulled her off of him easily. "Ivy, listen to reason…"

Ivy struggled under his grip. She pounded with her unarmed fist, kicked and kneed him to no avail, and finally resorted to spitting in his face.

"One way or another, I am getting that sword back!"

Siegfried dropped his sword and seized her other arm. "Ivy, calm yourself. You are in no further position to fight – all I ask is that you move on. I'll even return your sword to you if that's what you truly wish."

Ivy stopped struggling, and smiled insincerely. "…Very well then. Give me my sword and I'll press on."

Siegfried almost laughed. "That was rather quick. I find it difficult to believe you've dropped your grudge just like that."

Ivy's expression went back to rage, and she begun to thrash in his grip.

"Unhand me, you great oaf!"

"As you wish…"

Ivy suddenly flew back after throwing all her weight against a grip that was no longer holding her.

Siegfried picked up his sword and sheathed it.

"If what you say is true, Ivy…then I _must_ live on," Siegfried explained as he offered her a hand to pull her to her feet. "I _must_ be here to fight Soul Edge if and when it returns, do you understand?"

Ivy swatted his hand away and got to her feet, still in a fighting stance.

"Spare me your self righteous reasoning," Ivy cawed. "Your words are worth less than nothing to me."

Siegfried pressed on, unfazed. "My quarrel is not with you, Ivy. I just wish to be left in peace."

Ivy held out her hand expectantly. "Then return to me what's rightfully mine."

"But…" Siegfried said, holding up a finger. "For the time being, I may be able to help you."

"I don't _need_ your help, vessel of Soul Edge!" Ivy sneered.

"I think…" Siegfried withdrew the Ivy blade from his belt. "…You do…"

Ivy watched in awe at what should have been impossible: The Ivy blade opened, letting it's blade bits dance around the wielder, bound only by the alchemic chord that attached them to the hilt.

Ivy nearly gasped. The sword shouldn't respond to any command save her own!

"How…?"

"This sword…" Sigfried breathed. "It speaks to me the same way Soul Edge did. And I think it's affecting you the same way it did me."

Ivy crossed her arms. "Fine! Suppose I believe you – what do you propose?"

Sigfried shrugged. "Get rid of it."

"Unacceptable."

"Then you've bound yourself to a demon, Ivy – this sword, for all it's worth to you, is cursed, the same way Soul Edge was cursed. You'll live a damned life so long as you keep it on you."

"Then so be it!"

"Ivy…" Siegfried breathed. "Listen to yourself. Are you willing to give up _everything_ for the sake of this sword? It's taken hold of you, Ivy…fight it! I broke its influence, you can too!"

Ivy shook her head. "Silence! You know not what you speak!"

Siegfried shook his head, his expression blank. "I cannot allow you to live with this blade, Ivy. If one of us is to be cursed for life, I would prefer it be me."

Ivy gasped, incredulously. "So, what then? You're just going to take it!"

Siegfried sheathed it back into his belt. "Unless you agree to use all your knowledge to isolate the evil presence in this blade and eliminate it."

Ivy sniffed. "And how am I to do that? I don't exactly have your _keen_ sense for all things dark and impure."

Siegfried flinched. That had been unnecessary.

"I said before, I'm willing to help you. I've got nothing better to do while I await Soul Edge's inevitable return."

Ivy stared hard at the man. Then her features lost their sharp edge.

"You're return my sword and in return, you will help me remove the evil presence?"

Siegfried nodded. "And when we finish, I can be out of your life forever if you wish."

Ivy frowned. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now…give me the sword."

Siegfried drew the Ivy blade. "Give me your word then."

Ivy sighed. "Fine. I give you my word that I shall strive to cleanse this blade of all things dark and impure. Satisfied?"

Siegfried handed her the Ivy blade, smiling smartly at her. "Good then. How do you plan to go about it?"

Ivy held her sword, eying it as a mother would a long lost infant. "I'll take it home to Valentine Manor. I'll set it up in my father's lab. You will accompany me?"

"If that is the lady's wish," Siegfried bowed his head, his chivalrous instincts kicking in.

Ivy smirked. No self-respecting knight would strike a lady, armed or unarmed, and here, this buffoon meant to adhere to that ancient code? It was laudable!

"Very well, then…" Ivy smiled. "This could prove interesting. The manor is due west of here, about a day's walk."

Siegfried eyed the sky. "I doubt we have that long. Shall we make camp, or travel through the night?"

"Night time travel is just fine. Unless you're afraid of the dark."

"I imagine that, cursed or not, that sword of yours will protect you just as well as mine will, night or day."

Ivy sheathed her sword to her belt. "Then it's settled. We press on till morning."

Siegfried didn't say a word. He just followed her as she started along down the road.

Every so often, she would turn around to check on him, only to find him prodding along, keeping his distance.

An hour passed, and Ivy huffed. "Confound it, Siegfried, I can't have you lagging behind the whole trip! Walk _with_ me if you please!"

Siegfried blinked before speeding up his pace to keep even with hers.

"Feeling lonely, are we?"

"Shut up," Ivy shot back. "We just look strange, walking five meters apart."

Siegfried would have pointed out that they had passed no houses or populated areas, and no one had passed them on the street, but he said nothing.

"When I set out after you…" Ivy said in a lowered tone. "I had intended to kill you."

Siegfried eyed her warily. "And do you still intend to go through with that?"

Neither Ivy's posture nor her tone suggested she was about to attack him, but one could never be too sure.

"If you give me reason to," Ivy said with a wry smile.

Siegfried nodded back. He had seen that look before. He had seen it in many women over t he years. It was a look that said, "Touch me, and die." Something in his bones told him that, as far as matters of civility went, for as long as he remained under her roof, this look was all the warning he'd ever get.

"I know you have no reason to trust me, Ivy…" Siegfried muttered. "But as a knight of the Holy Roman Empire-"

"Oh, shut it!" Ivy snapped. "You're no more a knight than I am a duchess! They are titles that may have once identified us, but no longer. For all intents and purposes, we are both damned, Siegfried."

Siegfried nodded. "I understand. But we can also put the past behind us, at least temporarily. We can go back to living, if not the way we did before, than at very least, by the same principles."

Ivy sneered. "My past is too full of sin for that, Siegfried. If you can so easily shrug off your scars, than go right ahead. Consider yourself lucky."

"I cannot," Siegfried frowned. "I bear my sins with me always. But my point is simply that the past is not _entirely_ filled with sin. Somewhere, in our lives…we were good people, at some point. And there's nothing wrong with drawing upon that."

Ivy considered that for a moment. "It seems to me that I'd just be fooling myself. My so-called 'good memories' are of my childhood, and they end with my adolescence. From that point onward, my life has spiraled down a well of insanity."

Siegfried frowned. "For what it's worth, I am sorry. But a happy memory, even one drawn from childhood, is still something worth holding onto, isn't it?"

Ivy fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Can we change the subject, please?"

Siegfried bowed his head, without even meaning to. "As the lady wishes."

Ivy bared her teeth. "And stop with all the 'lady' nonsense! We are both of us warriors, and I would appreciate it if you not insult me by presuming to honor some imaginary status!"

Siegfried sighed. The lady had her share of quirks, and there wasn't a lot that didn't get on her nerves somehow.

"I was simply trying to be polite, but I'll stop trying so hard if it upsets you that much."

Ivy gritted her teeth. Normally, she enjoyed it when men submitted to her will this easily, but for some reason, obedience from Siegfried was simply maddening.

"In any case," Siegfried went on, trying to revive what might have been a civilized conversation (Though he half felt that he was beating a dead horse). "I intend to make good with what remainder of my life exists. If I can save just one soul, then maybe when Saint Peter judges me, I can say that at least I did _some_ good for the world. He can send me to hell, but I'll go knowing that I did _something_ admirable."

"Foolish," Ivy chided, idly. "You're far too soft, Siegfried. It's a wonder any part of you survived Soul Edge."

"Indeed…" Siegfried nodded, eyes closed. "Perhaps, a better man would have put up more of a fight, and been extinguished. I was eventually broken, and holed myself off in vacant part of my mine, while Nightmare dominated my existence. I didn't survive because I was strong – I survived because I was weak, and I posed no threat to Soul Edge, at least, inside my own mind."

Ivy nodded, curious. "Inside your own mind…but you managed to defeat Soul Edge."

"I did, but that was once it had relinquished control, leaving me for dead. I was not dead, and when I rose, I destroyed it before it could take me again."

Ivy nodded. "I see. And then?"

"I had thought myself free. But then I started having…flashes…feelings, that Soul Edge wasn't gone. At first, I thought it was just my own demons coming back to haunt me. But then _he_ showed up."

Ivy bit her lip, intrigued. "The immortal?"

Siegfried nodded. "He was a death seeker. He wanted to use Soul Edge to induce his own death. Madness, I told him, but he wouldn't listen. He used it…and became something horrible…"

Ivy clenched her fist. Had she been a woman of charity, she might have touched his shoulder to ease the telling, but she simply waited for him to compose himself.

"When he disappeared, the cursed sword vanished with him. I had thought it finished…"

"But it is never finished…" Ivy finished for him.

"I thought about killing myself…" Siegfried confessed. "Just end it all. But it wouldn't have solved anything. And I drew the same conclusion that you did – the Soul Edge would be back, and that it was _my_ responsibility, as one forever bound to it, to ensure that it never happens."

There was a long silence that passed between them as the weight of his words sank in.

Ivy crossed her arms. "Perhaps I was wrong about you. You are far from soft. A lesser man would have crumbled under such pressure. Yet you remain."

Siegfried blinked. Had she just said something nice?

"Don't get me wrong, however," Ivy smirked. "I still think you're a fool. A sentimental fool, in over his head. But your heart is in the right place."

Siegfried found himself smiling.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

xxxxx

A/N: Well, here's my first published Soul Caliber fic. I based Siegfried's fighting style off his SC3 command list. He's my favorite character to play, and Ivy was a close second, at least, in SC2. I was delighted to learn that these two were a popular pairing, so I decided to write a fic around them. I might throw in a few other characters from the game, but this is going to be primarily a Siegfried/Ivy fic. Romance will come later.

Keep reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Soul Caliber Fan Fiction**

**Lost Souls**

By Kraven Ergeist

Chapter Two

Valentine Manor was cold and desolate. Loathing human contact, the workers who would normally keep the place in order had all been let go by the Valentine heir apparent, and with them, the quality of the manor. Dust coated the furnishings, leaves littered the floor by the windows, the carpets were natty and worn, and everything was in disarray

It was near freezing inside.

"This is where you live?" Siegfried asked, astonishment in his voice.

Ivy didn't even turn around as she lit a lantern. "If you prefer to sleep outside…"

Siegfried could swear he saw bats flying around the stairwell. "And here I was, wondering where your cheery disposition came from."

"Oh, you're a barrel of laughs," Ivy jeered, motioning for him to follow her up the staircase, lighting lanterns along the way.

It was the dead of night, roughly 4 o'clock in the morning by Siegfried's count. Ivy, however, seemed to content to get right to work, setting up in her laboratory workshop. The lab was filled to the brim with bells, whistles, and odd-looking bottles. For what could only be delicate precise work, it was dimly lit by two pitiful lights hanging from the ceiling.

Siegfried watched in a mixture of fascination and a sense of foreboding as she disassembled the Valentine blade, bit by bit. Each piece of metal detached from the chord in the middle, the tip came off, leaving a nasty looking spire, and the hilt came apart into component parts.

"Keep in mind, I technically shouldn't even be allowing you in here…" Ivy muttered, grimly. "The processes involved to make the Valentine blade are a guarded family secret. However, I honestly don't think you know the first thing there is to know about alchemy, so I don't see the harm in letting you observe."

Siegfried tried not to rolls his eyes. "Well, I'm glad my ignorance will prove beneficial."

"Well then…" Ivy said ignoring his comment, gesturing the two dozen or so scattered parts that now littered her worktable. "This is where you come in."

Siegfried stepped over to the worktable. The lighting wasn't very good, but as he ran a hand over each part, he felt a kind of…resonance…like a hum or power. But it only came from the pieces of metal the made up the blade. The chord, spire and hilt were…empty.

"Here…" Siegfried picked up the metal sword pieces. "In these. Every one of these bladed parts stink of the cursed blade."

Ivy bit her lip. "I was afraid of that. The choice of metal used is one of the most crucial factors. See, the alchemic chord that binds the blade together…" She ran her hands over the retractable metal line. She had since removed her gauntlet, and Siegfried couldn't help but notice her red polished fingernails. "…Conducts power throughout the sword."

Siegfried blinked. "But…wouldn't that shock the user?"

Ivy shook her head. "There are dampeners in the hilt. But more importantly, the blade itself doesn't conduct electricity – there's only enough to power the chord. If the electricity managed to seep into the sword itself…"

Siegfried shrugged. "So find some ionized metal. It can't be that difficult."

"Ignorant fool," Ivy groaned. "That's not enough. The metal used can't be polarized _or_ ionized either, otherwise it blocks the flow entirely, and I'd only be able to control the bottom rung. That's why discovering the metal for this blade was such a find – it's conducive to the power of the blade without draining it. It has properties that are not only ideal, but _crucial_ for the blade to function."

Siegfried clutched the cursed metal and frowned. "This metal exhibits these properties because it's cursed steel. It doesn't conduct electricity, magnetism or ions because it's _biological_."

Ivy blinked. "What?"

"Soul Edge is _alive_, Ivy," Siegfried sighed. "It's a living, breathing thing, with a will and desire of its own. That's what makes it so dangerous."

Ivy stared at the hunks of metal that had once made up her precious sword. "Dangerous or not, they are the only thing that allow this sword to work. I spent my life creating this sword. It's all I have. I cannot part with it, you understand?"

Siegfried met her gaze and shook his head. "I'm sorry Ivy, but I can't let these pieces stay here."

Ivy pursed her lips as Siegfried deposited all twelve hunks of metal into a pouch he kept as his belt.

"And just what am I supposed to use in the meantime!"

Siegfried said nothing as he stepped out the door.

"Stop right there!" Ivy called out, putting herself between him and the door. "You said before that you would help me, and now you're leaving me with nothing!"

Siegfried shook his head. "You built the sword yourself, right? You've still got the infrastructure, you have the knowledge. Built it again."

"With what!" Ivy said, angrily. "It took my father years to find the right kind of metal!"

"I'm willing to bet that he gave you parts of his own cursed sword, tempered with some other metal to dampen the effect."

"Regardless, what am I supposed to do now!"

Siegfried said nothing.

"Finish what you've started, Siegfried! You said that you'd help me – so help me! Help me find a suitable metal to rebuild the to Valentine sword."

Siegfried shook his head. "I'm a knight, not a craftsman. I wouldn't know where to start."

"Then give me the parts you took, and I'll replace them once I've found something suitable!"

"And if you find nothing? Or if what you find just happens to be more tainted steel?"

It was Ivy's turn to be lost for words.

Siegfried pushed past her and left the shop to emerged into a noticeably darker corridor.

Ivy followed him out. "Where exactly do you think you're going? I'm not letting you leave until I have what I want. Now either give me back the parts I need, or help me find something else to use!"

Siegfried paused, standing still, considering.

"If the cursed blade is the only known material to use…than I can only think of one thing that will work."

Ivy pursed her lips. "And what would that be?"

Siegfried caught himself grinning. "The Soul Calibur."

"You must be joking. Soul Calibur is a myth."

"No, Soul Calibur is very real. I've seen it – I've _held_ it! How else do you think I defeated Soul Edge?"

Ivy looked unimpressed. "You mean to tell me you slew Soul Edge with the Soul Calibur? How did you come across it?"

Siegfried faltered. "I…I don't remember. It just…appeared…"

"Right…quite a convincing story…"

"It's the truth!" Siegfried exclaimed. "Look, I was in a daze after having just been under Nightmare's influence, so my memory's a little hazy. But I swear to you, it's the truth! Soul Calibur exists!"

Ivy pinched the bridge of her nose. "Alright, fine! So if Soul Calibur exists, then how exactly are we supposed to find it?"

Siegfried frowned. "I have no idea. But I should be able to sense it as I can Soul Edge."

"Great," Ivy threw her hands up. "So, what, we just wander the Earth until your sixth sense picks up the trail? In case you haven't noticed, the world's a rather big place!"

"Then I suggest we start looking," Siegfried advised. "Because I have a feeling that Soul Edge will be upon us a lot sooner than either of us thought."

Ivy tried to argue against him, but he was already on the move.

"But you…hey, wait!" Ivy started after him. "You have no idea what you're doing, do you?"

"I know a few leads," Siegfried said, stepping downstairs where he left his cloak and sword. "Some contacts, some records, some people who've seen both the sacred and cursed swords before. We'll find it."

"And suppose we do, what next!" Ivy demanded. "You're going to dismantle a _sacred_ sword, one which might be the only defense against Soul Edge! I have no business even _touching_ such a weapon!"

"No," Siegfried agreed. "But _I_ do. Soul Calibur can be split, just as Soul Edge can. And it inherits the properties of the materials around it. Contact it with another weapon, and it attaches itself to that weapon, and balances itself to whatever the user desires."

"Still…" Ivy breathed. "If the legend holds true, then we're talking about defiling a sacred weapon."

"Soul Calibur exists to counteract Soul Edge," Siegfried explained. "So long as the user's desire is to fight the cursed sword, Soul Calibur will oblige. It's all quite cut and dried."

Ivy frowned. "You mentioned Soul Edge's return?"

"Yes," Siegfried breathed. "Ever since we passed London, I've felt…colder…"

Ivy gave the man a critical eye. "Perhaps you've simply fallen ill. How long has it been since you've had a decent night's rest?"

"Sleep doesn't come easily for me," Siegfried said, gravely. "Nightmare used to take hold of my body while I slept. Every time I woke, I woke to a bloodied sword…and the realization that I had killed so many innocent…"

Ivy sighed. "Well, one thing's for sure – we're not going anywhere until we've at least caught our breath. Here, you should get some sleep. I'll pack up for the trip. Something tells me we're going to be searching for a long time."

Siegfried held up his hands. "I'm fine, Ivy. I've survived in far worse conditions than-"

"Oh, shut up, and accept some hospitality, you big lout!" Ivy chided, urging him back upstairs. "It's not every day I offer it so freely. Now here…" she opened up the guest room chambers. "You can rest here. Meanwhile, _I_ need to find something to fight with, now that my choice weapon is in bloody pieces."

All the while, she had been basically dragging him along. Siegfried just sort of went along with her tugging and pulling. He could feel the familiar urge for sleep begin to set in, which he had always been so resilient against. Usually, if he managed to fight off the urge to sleep for at least a few hours, he could last another day with relative ease, but now, for some reason, with Ivy in such close proximity, her body heat the only source of warmth in this frozen manor, and the intoxicating scent of her perfume all slowly lulled him into a state of relaxation, and his eyelids suddenly began to feel heavy.

"Hey!" Ivy said, suddenly holding up his weight. "Wake up! You can sleep _after_ I've gotten you to your bed."

Siegfried groaned, suddenly feel groggy and dazed. "I don't know what's wrong with me…I just feel so weak all of the sudden…"

Ivy smiled. "You know, you shouldn't be telling me these things. It would be so easy for me to kill you in this state of stupor you're in."

Siegfried fixed his gaze upon her. "Then why don't you?"

Ivy just dragged him to the guest bed, depositing him into the soft confines of its quilts and comforters.

Siegfried felt her hand over his forehead and opened his eyes to see her staring back into his.

"We may have to postpone our little trip," she said, softly. "You're burning up a fever."

Siegfried tried not to blush under all the motherly treatment. "I'll be fine, really. Just a…quick power nap, and…I'll be just fine…"

Ivy smiled as his eyes drifted closed. It was a strange thing, that the man who had once been the face of all things dark in the world could look so peaceful right at that moment.

"I'm sure you will be," she brushed a stray lock of hair from his face. "Rest now, Siegfried…we'll leave when you're ready…"

She caught herself fawning and got to her feet. Turning to look at him one more time, she left and closed the door.

Perhaps he had been imagining things. No, he must have been imagining it. Or dreaming. Because when Siegfried woke up, he could have sworn that Ivy had kissed him damply on the forehead.

It was daylight when he looked out his window. His fever seemed to have lifted. Of course, it had been no natural fever. Siegfried felt a cold sweat upon him. These symptoms…he had felt them before.

Soul Edge was back.

Siegfried saw his armor piled in a corner of the room. Confused, he looked under the covers, and saw only his loincloth. Had Ivy undressed him while he'd slept? He decided it was best not to dwell on it, as he got out of bed, searching for his undershirt and breeches, which he couldn't seem to find.

Curious.

Scarcely dressed, he poked his head outside the door. The sun had heated the manor to a tolerable temperature, though in only his breechcloth, he still shivered ever so often. As he made his way down the spiral staircase, he found Ivy rummaging through a loose pile of papers on a small table adjacent to the entryway. She was wearing a simple night robe, her feet bare, and her face unadorned with mascara. She looked surprisingly…normal.

She looked up when she saw him and suppressed a snicker. "You know, it's a good thing I laid off the hired help. Otherwise, I'd have some explaining to do."

Siegfried crossed his hands over his loincloth, embarrassed. "Ivy…where're my clothes?"

Ivy nodded out the window. "Drying. I washed them. They needed it."

"And…" Siegfried eyed her warily. "What possessed you to remove my clothes while I slept?"

"You were out like a log," Ivy laughed. "At first, I was just going to remove your armor so that you'd sleep more comfortably, when it occurred to me how dirty your clothes were."

Siegfried raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't imagine it to be in your character to be so hospitable."

"A simple 'thank you' will do," Ivy retorted. "Or are you worried I might have done more than remove your tunic and breeches?"

"I was wondering why my loincloth hadn't been touched."

"I wasn't going to go _quite_ that far," Ivy flashed a smile. "You can wash your loincloth yourself."

"Great," Siegfried nodded. "Thanks. So between all this laundry, when exactly are we going to be moving along?"

"Men," Ivy sighed. "Your priorities never lie with cleanliness. If you're planning on setting off on a long voyage, it would be a good idea to prepare, and that includes washing the clothing you intend to wear. And you might also consider taking a bath."

Siegfried raised an eyebrow. "A bath?"

Ivy responded by crossing her arms. "No offense, Siegfried…but it wouldn't be a bad idea."

The man idly sniffed his underarm and just shrugged. "Whatever. So when were you planning on actually leaving?"

"Tomorrow, if you're so eager to know," Ivy returned her attention to her documents.

"Are there any further preparations beyond bathing and laundry?" Siegfried asked sardonically.

If Siegfried hadn't been awake before, he certainly was now. Because Ivy chose just that moment to reveal what she would fighting with until her weapon of choice was brought back up to working order.

"A…bullwhip?"

Ivy waved the weapon around seductively.

"Was that excitement I detected in your voice?"

Siegfried suddenly felt quite vulnerable in nothing but his loincloth.

"I…think I'm going to go see about that bath…"

"Good man…" Ivy smiled, pointing to the bathroom. "Right over there. There should be some water already in the cauldron."

Siegfried made his way to the bathroom, stoked the fire beneath the cauldron and poured the heated water into the rather lavish looking bronze bath in the center of the room. He didn't bother removing his breechcloth, as it needed cleaning even more than he did, and after that little run in, he honestly didn't feel safe under the same roof as Ivy without _something_ covering his nether regions.

"Don't forget…" he said to himself as a he sat back in the bath. "_You_ offered to help her. You could have just kept your nose out of her business, but you _had_ to offer your assistance."

Siegfried sighed. Self-conversation was a regular symptom of having been under Nightmare's influence. One year of not having anyone other than yourself to talk to did things to a person.

There was a knock at the door, and before Siegfried could say anything, a hand slipped inside the door, carrying a gray robe and hanging it on the towel rack on the wall.

"Here…" came Ivy's voice from the other side of the door. "For the sake of your dignity."

Siegfried opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

The door lingered open for a second before slowly closing.

"Th-thanks!" Siegfried coughed out, a little too late.

The door closed and he was left alone.

The water was getting cold.

He got out and toweled off, putting on the robe Ivy had left him. It was the same kind she had been wearing. In fact, if the tight fit around the waist and the faint scent of her perfume were any indication, this was one of _her_ robes.

Siegfried wasn't quite sure how he felt about that.

Siegfried opened the door and saw Ivy where she had previously been, sorting through documents (what looked like weeks and weeks of unread mail) piling up on the table. She still had on the robe she had been wearing (Siegfried sighed in relief – at least she hadn't given him the robe she had been wearing).

"Good, that's much better…" Ivy said with something that was almost an appraising smile. "Did you manage to wash your hair? I imagine that must be quite the chore for you. I left some oils for you to use."

Siegfried hadn't touched the oils, so he just smiled weakly and said "Thanks, I appreciate it."

Lying by omission wasn't technically lying by the knight's code, but it still felt a little wrong to be…

Siegfried lost his train of thought when Ivy stepped up to him, taking his head in both her hands and pressing her nose against his hair, inhaling deeply.

Siegfried's face was several shades pinker by the time she looked at him mockingly.

"Liar. Get back in there and wash your hair."

Siegfried just about threw up his arms. He did not sign up to be henpecked! But he stayed his tongue and obediently went back into the bathroom and slipped back into the bath, grabbing the oils, grudgingly.

"She's really got you wrapped around her finger…" He grumbled to himself as he rubbed the harsh smelling oils into his scalp. He supposed, ultimately, it didn't matter. He wasn't sure why he wasn't putting up much of a fight with her. Maybe it had something to do with the way his heart pounded whenever she so much as a laid a finger on him. Maybe it had something to do with the unspoken threat of her using that bullwhip on him. But whatever it was, there was something…maternal about the way she bossed him around that he just didn't feel like arguing with.

It was so relaxing to be concerned with such remedial things such as laundry and bathing. Having spent most of his days fighting for his life and his sanity, living, even for a day, under a roof, not worrying about anything more than when your next meal would be was such a welcome relief that he was almost tempted to spend the rest of his life like this.

Almost.

By the time he was done, his hair was glistening. He'd had to use nearly the whole bottle to cover his entire head of hair. He smelled repugnant as far as he could tell, but Ivy seemed to approve.

"Better?" he asked, sarcastically.

Ivy nodded, sincerely. "Much. You look like a new man. Now I'm afraid all the duke's clothes are moth bitten, so you'll have to settle for your tunic and breeches till we set out…"

She gestured farther back, and Siegfried saw his underclothes draped over a chair, clean and dry. Stepping over to them, Siegfried glanced back at Ivy, who turned politely while he changed.

"So…" Siegfried asked, awkwardly. "I may have asked this in some way before but…yesterday, you were…how should I put it…?"

"Irritable?" Ivy offered.

"Openly hostile," Siegfried said, shoving on his clothes. "Why the sudden, ah…streak of charity?"

Siegfried heard Ivy made an odd sound in the back of her throat. What he didn't notice was the turn of her head as she stole a quick glance as he changed.

"Well…mutual benefit, for one thing. We are allied now, are we not? As allies, we…ought to take care of each other. I expect nothing less from a 'Knight of the Holy Roman Empire.'"

Siegfried chuckled, throwing on his tunic. "Now's who's being a barrel of laughs?"

Ivy chuckled as she turned around. The chuckle turned into outright laughter as she saw him in what was to pass the rest of the day as "fully clothed."

"What?" Siegfried asked, confused at her laughter.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Ivy gasped, through fits of giggling. "But grown men should _not_ be seen walking around in their undergarments. You look _ridiculous_!"

Siegfried looked down at his tunic and breeches – while they covered most of his body, they were clearly not meant to pass as actual clothing. He shook his head, trying to take the laugh in good humor, but it was difficult.

"When are we leaving again?"

xxxxx

A/N: I felt like I should cut this chapter off here, even though I have more still planned to write. I'll get right to work on the next chapter as soon as I upload this.

Keep reading.


	3. Chapter 3

**Soul Caliber Fan Fiction**

**Lost Souls**

By Kraven Ergeist

Chapter Three

The next day, Ivy had replaced her purple dominatrix outfit with an equally revealing white one. It was everything Siegfried could do to meet her gaze.

"Umm…aren't you going to wear something a little…" he chose his words carefully. "…Warmer?"

"I'll wear what I like," Ivy sniffed, keeping to her task of packing her horse's saddlebags. "Worry about yourself. And while you're at it, try to keep your eyes on the road if you please."

Siegfried groaned. He hadn't been looking (not overtly anyway), but he didn't feel like making an issue of it. Honestly, who traveled in heels, anyway?

"So where exactly are we going?" Ivy asked, obviously not a morning person. Or maybe she was just peeved at not having her Ivy blade close at hand. The pieces were carefully tucked in her saddlebags – she was determined to rebuild it the moment she came across the Soul Calibur, or any type of metal that fit the bill. She had her prototype blade, which worked about half the time, she said, and was quite dull. She also carried around a pair of whips and a sturdy broadsword to fit the roles that the Valentine blade had filled by itself.

"Not far," Siegfried said, turning his attention to his own horse. "My first contact is in London. From there, we'll most likely travel to the mainland. If my hunch is correct - and unfortunately, it usually is – then we'll be heading east."

Ivy groaned. "So be it then…"

They both mounted their rides and rode onward without saying a word to each other. They made good time, reaching the river Thames in time for lunch. But they pressed on, riding by the riverside until the dirt road became a wide street that bustled with carriages. Eventually, barns and fields became inns and taverns, butchers and bakers, churches and blacksmiths.

The two riders tied up their horses at a stable and walked into town.

"Get yourself something to eat," Siegfried said. "This won't take long."

"You're dreaming if you think I'm going to let _my_ sword be carted around the city without me," Ivy said simply.

Siegfried ran his hand over the pouch at his side that still held the cursed steel that had once made up the Ivy blade.

"Suit yourself," Siegfried sighed, making his way to tavern called the Blind Man's Bluff.

Ivy followed the man inside, groaning at the stench of alcohol in the air. A knight in white armor and a woman as scantily clad as she would have turned some heads, so they wore cloaks that covered their appearance.

"What can I get you?" came the voice of the tavern keep, sounding bored.

"Düsseldorf ale," Siegfried grunted. "And I'm looking for Olcadan."

The tavern keep placed the pint on the bar. "He's on the third floor."

Siegfried downed the ale and paid for the drink and made for the stairs without saying another word. Ivy followed deftly behind him as he slowly prodded up the steps.

The third floor was drafty with every window broken in. Bird droppings littered the floor, but there were oddly no pigeons or crows in sight.

Siegfried remained still for a moment before sighing.

"You seem to have fallen on some hard times, Master."

Ivy turned just in time to see a face belonging to a snowy owl. Only it was bigger than any bird's head should be. And it was on a man's shoulders.

"Um…Siegfried…?" Ivy blinked, unsure if her eyes were playing tricks on her.

"You're not hallucinating," Siegfried assured her before stepping before the owl faced man, bowing his head.

"Siegfried," the owl's beak opened and words came out. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Just passing through, Master Olcadan," Siegfried said, neutrally.

Olcadan shook his head back and forth faster than the eye could catch, sending a shower of white feathers flying everywhere.

"Come on, we both know you're here for a reason," Olcadan squawked. "Why don't you tell me what it is that concerns you and you can be on your way?"

Siegfried sighed, shaking his head. "I never could keep secrets from you, Master. I'll get straight to it then – I'm looking for Soul Calibur."

"Ah…" Olcadan lowered his head, sighing. "The time has come again, has it?"

"I'm afraid it has."

Olcadan paced the blustery corridor, his birdlike talons clicking and clacking on the floor.

"You seek out Soul Calibur, yet you bring pieces of Soul Edge with you?"

Siegfried's voice caught in his throat. "Shards – and not even whole shards at that." He held up the pouch that contained the tainted steel from Ivy's blade. "I'd have disposed of them myself, but the lady here will have none of that."

Olcadan nodded. "I see. Then allow me to remove the burden from your shoulders."

Before either Siegfried or Ivy could do anything, the old master snatched the bag and leapt through a hole in the ceiling.

"No!" Ivy shouted, reaching futilely after him. "I need those!"

"Ivy…" Sigfried breathed, touching her shoulder. "Let them go."

Ivy slapped his arm away. "You just let him take it, you great oaf! You did _nothing_!"

Siegfried pointed to where Olcadan had flown, an incredulous look on his face. "You want to challenge Master Olcadan? Be my guest."

"You…you…" Ivy's mouth opened, but she was too stupefied for words.

She tore away from him, clenching her fists in frustration, her heels clapping angrily on the floorboards.

"Suppose we find nothing?" Ivy huffed, running her hands through her hair. "Suppose we fail? I have nothing to fall back on – those shards were my last hope!"

"Ivy…" Siegfried sighed, trying to make her understand. "You're better off without them. And even if we fail, it's just a _sword_."

Ivy wheeled about and smacked him hard in the face. "Don't tell me it's just a sword! It may be just a sword to you, but I have spent my _life_ perfecting it! I've lost everything else, do you understand! My family, my honor, my dignity…that sword is all I have left! And even that's being taken away from me, one piece at a time!"

Ivy's voice had lost its sharp edge, and by the time she finished talking, she was on the verge of tears.

Siegfried tried not to think about how much his face stung after that attack and instead brought both his hands up to her shoulders.

Now, Ivy was crying, lowering her head in shame at her own weakness, her pearly white hair covering her face.

"Ivy…" Siegfried breathed, trying to figure out what to say. "I-"

"Soul Edge is no fall back, young lady!" Olcadan's voice rang out as he landed in a crouch after jumping back down from the hole in the roof.

"You old bird!" Ivy spat, wiping the damp from her eyes and glaring angrily at the ancient sword master. "What have you done with them?"

"They burn in the building's chimney," Olcadan explained. "I've added a chemical burner to draw out he impurities in the steel. The elements of Soul Edge will be flushed out from the metal, and leave pure steel behind. Once I've finished, the metal is yours to keep."

Ivy turned to search out the fireplace, but Siegfried held her fast. Rather than turn and wail on him, Ivy backed off, huffing in defeat.

"Fat load of help _that'll_ do me…" she huffed, making her way downstairs.

Olcadan offered Siegfried an apologetic look. "Sorry about all that. If I were to reveal the location of Soul Calibur in the presence of any shards, all of Inferno's spies will be after it."

Siegfried's heart skipped a beat. "You know where it is!"

"No, but I know someone who might," Olcadan admonished. "And if they don't, I'm confident that they'll point you in the right direction."

Olcadan gave him an address in Athens, Greece.

"Perfect," Siegfried smiled. "An old friend."

Olcadan ruffled his feathers again. "You face a difficult task, young one. I hope your journey bears fruit. I only wish I could do more."

Siegfried bowed his head. "No. You've done more than enough, Master Olcadan. Godspeed."

"And to you as well."

Siegfried made his way downstairs and found Ivy sitting by the fire. He stiffened until he saw that she wasn't doing anything rash. Sighing, he made his way over to her. He honestly didn't know what to say. He couldn't begin to imagine the level of attachment Ivy felt to what was, to him, little more than a piece of hardware. Agitated, he sat beside her in silence.

Ivy hadn't looked his way, but she felt his presence.

"It's like I'm watching my life burning before my eyes," she breathed, watching the flames dance.

Somewhere up the shoot, a super heated iron mixer was boiling down what had once been her most prized possession.

"Look at it…" Ivy sighed. "So close, and there's nothing I can do. If I so much as reach out to _touch _it…"

Ivy reached out towards the flames. Her fingers danced, her hand dangerously close to the fire. Before she might have plunged her hand into the fireplace, Siegfried seized her arm, pulling it back.

"Ivy…" he said uneasily, studying the red polished fingernails of her hand in his. "I know you don't think much of the code that I live by…but I swear to you by whatever's left that's holy in this world that I will not rest until-"

"Oh, save your breath!" Ivy wheezed, fixing him with a look of disbelief. "Do you think your words make any difference?"

Siegfried's little speech died on his tongue, but Ivy's condescending gaze remained.

"You can no more return to me what I've lost than I can! I am like the very sword I lived by – unable to function unless I do so by tainted means! Do you think that some solemn vow is enough to undo a wasted, misspent life? You are just as powerless as I am, Siegfried!"

Sigfried felt tiny under that piercing gaze of hers. Tiny and helpless. He was almost inclined to believe what she said.

He noticed that he was still holding her hand.

A smile crossed his face.

"I _will_ find the Soul Calibur," he said with confidence in his voice. "Master Olcadan's provided us with a location. Now come – we can make Dover by nightfall."

Siegfried took her hand and pulled her to her feet before she could say a word.

"What…?" Ivy stuttered as he practically dragged her out of the tavern. "It's in Dover?"

"No," Siegfried said as they hurried outside. "It's in Greece. But we'll need to cross the English Channel if we plan to get there."

They reclaimed their rides and rode south, leaving the city behind. Ivy couldn't understand Siegfried's excitement, but that was exactly as he intended. Perhaps it was a fool's errand, but he had seen few in his life so deprived of hope as Ivy had been just then. If the only method of keeping Ivy's spirits up was openly expressing excitement in something that, in all fairness, deserved such an appraisal, then Siegfried didn't mind. She had gone out of her way to take care of him. In their present situation, this was the only way he knew how to return the favor.

He would have done better, however, to pay closer mind to his surroundings. Maybe then, he might have noticed the strange green stained girl watching them from the trees.

"Couldn't we take a boat to Greece?" Ivy thought out loud as they checked into an inn in Dover.

"It's faster and cheaper to go by land," Siegfried shook his head. "And it's the wrong season for the trade ships to be leaving port. As it is, the ferry ride across the channel is going to cost us, and the weather hasn't been nearly good enough to consider a water route."

"What's the matter?" Ivy teased. "Afraid of a little thunderstorm?"

"Caution always seems ill placed until you actually find yourself in a tight spot," Siegfried sighed. It was bad enough to have to be traveling with a temptress without her questioning his masculinity. But at least she seemed to have gotten her spark back.

"We leave on the morrow then?"

"Yes," Siegfried confirmed. "The ferry leaves port at six o'clock sharp."

The inn served hot soup, but the room only had one bed, and as if by unspoken agreement, Siegfried sat on the floor, his back against the wall, his cloak pulled over his body for warmth.

Ivy slid off her gauntlet, boots and gloves, but otherwise remained clothed.

"What, no goodnight kiss?" she snickered.

Siegfried opened one eye and shook his head. "Don't make me laugh."

Ivy crossed her arms. "For all you know, I was being serious. But I guess now you'll never know."

Siegfried closed his eyes. "Goodnight, Ivy."

Ivy laughed again, and went to bed.

Morning came, and a dense fog permeated the air. Dew seemed to coat every surface, even indoors.

Pulling his cloak tightly about him, Siegfried was grateful for the fire at the hearth.

Ivy approached, bearing two mugs of hot tea, still dressed in her skimpy white outfit.

"Jeez, how can you stand to wear something like that?" Siegfried gasped, pulling his cloak tighter. "It's bloody freezing."

Ivy laughed, wryly and handed him his mug. "I grew up waking up to foggy mornings. You learn to get used to them."

Siegfried said nothing as he sipped his hot drink, letting the heat trickle down his throat and congeal in his stomach.

"The ferry will take us to Normandy," Siegfried explained, taking out a cartograph. "We'll ride till we get to Venice. From there, we travel by boat to Athens."

"Does our…" Ivy eyed her surroundings. "…_Contact_…have what we're looking for?"

"Doubtful," Siegfried admonished. "But it's likely that she knows where it is."

"She?"

Siegfried raised an eyebrow. "Sophitia Alexandra. I doubt you've met."

Ivy pursed her lips. "The name rings a bell."

"Well, hopefully it's not because you've wronged her in some form in the past."

Ivy did her best to look innocent. It was difficult to manage.

"In any case, if she can't help us, I know someone else who can. Luckily, it's on the way."

"Another old girlfriend?"

"This time, it's a he," Siegfried corrected. "And trust me – our connection is anything but romantic."

They boarded the ferry, which overcharged them ostensibly to Ivy's chagrin.

"My father only left me a finite amount, you know." Ivy complained as the two of them leaned against the railing of the ferry, their horses tied to the stable below deck. "The reason I fired my house workers is party because I couldn't afford to keep them."

Siegfried smiled, lightly. "Now you see why I thought better of taking a boat the whole way?"

Ivy shook her head. "This is serious – we're not going to have enough money to make it to Athens."

"Hmm…" Siegfried frowned. "That is a problem. We may have to come by some on our way."

"Steal it?"

"That goes against me credo."

"I'm not selling my body."

"Also against my credo."

Ivy sighed. "How are we supposed to scrape by, then? Does your not-so-friendly-acquaintance have some wealth he can spare?"

"That's anyone's guess," Siegfried shrugged. "But I doubt it'll be a problem. We only need to scrape by until we get to Rome."

Ivy raised an eyebrow. "Some favors to call in?"

"I would be so fortunate," Siegfried sighed. "There is, however, a place where I'm confident we can earn some easy money."

Ivy raised an eyebrow. "Why does that not inspire confidence?"

"Relax," Siegfried assured. "I was a knight of the Holy Roman Empire, they know me there."

"You know what they say," Ivy sighed, leaning against the railing. "Familiarity breeds contempt."

They landed in Normandy and road south through the French province. Siegfried felt that familiar cold feeling and turned his eyes to the sky. There were any number of birds in the air – understandable that he would fail to pick up on one red-eyed blackbird that seemed to be stalking them.

"Well done, my pet," came the girl's sultry sounding voice, as the bird landed on her shoulder. She was of a tiny build, her clothes a tattered green and purple, her hair stained green from years living in the wilderness.

"Keep a close eye on them," she cooed, kissing the bird's cheek. "With any luck, they'll lead me right to Soul Edge."

Without so much as a squawk, the red-eyed blackbird took the sky once more.

The riders made it to Paris just as the moon was rising in the night sky. After a quick meal, the two of them made their way to the south bank to stake out their "contact."

"Just how 'un-romantic' are you with this man?" Ivy inquired in a whisper.

"We've basically been trying to kill each other all our lives," Siegfried admitted.

"Oh," Ivy stated, as though that single thought explained everything. "Then…tell me, why exactly are we here?"

"Despite our…disagreements, Raphael Sorel was even more involved with Soul Edge than I saw, so much so that when he touched the Soul Calibur, it drained his life force."

"You haven't answered my question."

"We're here," Siegfried explained. "To find out what he knows. As focused as he's been, he's likely found out something useful."

"That's hardly a lead."

"It's worth looking into, and it was on the way," Siegfried shook his head. "Now let's take a look. With any luck, Raphael will never know we were here."

The Frenchman lived in an upscale manor in the south of France, but occasionally spent time in his gaudy pied-a-terre whenever he conducted business in Paris. He had purchased the apartment under the pseudonym Charles Blanche, seeing as how he was still technically an enemy of the state.

It was easy enough to gain entry – a bad sign, as Siegfried saw it. It meant the apartment contained nothing of value.

"This was a waste of time," Ivy sighed, rifling through month old receipts and bills. "There's no mention of Soul Edge _or_ Soul Calibur."

"That just means we're not looking in the right places," Siegfried shook his head.

Without making too much noise, Siegfried came across a safe box, which he managed to open with the point of his sword. As soon as the lid came off, he instantly felt the dark energy within. The lead case must have sealed off the resonance.

It was a shard of Soul Edge!

No wonder Soul Edge has returned this soon, Siegfried thought to himself. With all these shards still lying about, it could hardly be considered dead in the first place.

"Look at this…" came Ivy's voice, as she entered the study Siegfried had found the safe box in. "These letters are from the King of France – promising amnesty in exchange for…" Ivy's eyes widened. "In exchange for Soul Edge!"

Siegfried glared. "Raphael must think himself actually capable of acquiring Soul Edge."

Ivy frowned. "Is he?"

Siegfried showed her the safe box and its contents. "So far, it's a safe bet he is."

Ivy's frown deepened. "I think we'd better hurry if we mean to find Soul Calibur. We might need it sooner than we think."

Siegfried nodded, closing the safe box. Something was troubling him, however. Something was wrong, he thought. Raphael wouldn't leave something so important as a shard of Soul Edge alone in an apartment; he would keep it on him.

Unless…

"Who are you?"

Siegfried and Ivy stopped in their tracks as the moonlight showed them the face of a young red haired girl in a quaint purple dress.

This Raphael certainly keeps some…illicit company, Ivy thought. The girl couldn't be any older than twelve, maybe thirteen.

"We're…friends of Lord Sorel," Siegfried quickly covered. "We were looking for him."

"Master Sorel is not here at the moment," the girl's eyes didn't seem to blink. "Perhaps I could be of assistance."

Ivy grunted. "No thank you, we were just leaving."

"Actually," Siegfried held up his finger. "Perhaps you could tell us something, Miss…?"

The girl's head tilted, curiously. "Amy."

"Amy," Siegfried nodded. "Has Lord Sorel told you anything about the shard he keeps in his study?"

The redhead's eyes seemed to glisten. "Just that is was something important to him. Why?"

"Did he say where he got it? Or if there were any others like it?"

"I'm afraid I can't help you," Amy said. Then her expression changed. "You're not planning to steal it, are you?"

Siegfried held up his hands. "Far from it – we're actually looking for something else entirely!"

"Siegfried…" Ivy said, cautiously. Something in her voice told him that she didn't like this girl any more than he did.

"I assure you, the shard is safe," Siegfried said. "We can check on it if you'd like."

Again, he was bending the truth. The shard _was_ safe – in his left pocket, to be exact. The offer to let her see it, however…

Amy still hadn't blinked. "That won't be necessary. I already know exactly where it is…"

Siegfried gasped as the shard suddenly appeared in the palm of her hand. Slamming his hand to his pocket, he found it to be empty.

"How…?"

"I'm sorry," Amy said, still in her quiet child's voice. "But I'm afraid I can't let the two of you leave here alive."

That's when he noticed it. Her eyes. They never blinked. And as he saw them reflected in the light…

"What the…?" Siegfried gasped, clutching the hilt of his sword. "What has he _done_ to you? You're no longer human, are you?"

Her eyes - they were as black as night, her pupils a sickly shade of yellow.

Amy drew her Albion, a long curvaceous rapier, and lunged at Siegfried. The sword never reached its target, as Ivy's whip sliced through the air, lashing onto the sword, yanking it out of her grip.

"Please!" Siegfried said, his grip still tight on the handle of his blade. "We don't want to fight you!"

"We don't?" Ivy inquired. Personally, she wanted to go a few rounds with this twerp.

"I'm afraid that's not possible," Amy said, staunchly, and she waved her hand. As if summoned by magic, the sword rose from the ground, and returned to her hand.

Siegfried drew his zweihander. "We'll leave you in peace, Amy. I'm sorry for disturbing you."

"She's not listening right now, Siegfried!" Ivy chided, drawing her broadsword. She wasn't ready to trust the prototype just yet.

The Requiem remained tip the to ground.

"Please!"

Not even acknowledging his words, Amy lunged again. Again, Ivy caught her blade with a crack of her whip.

"We're leaving this place," Ivy called out. "It's up to you whether that involves bloodying that pretty dress of yours."

This time, Amy turned the point of her rapier up, slicing through the bullwhip, before bringing it down towards Ivy's head. She blocked with her gauntlet, lashing at the girl with her broadsword.

The redhead bent back, backhand springing away as gracefully as only a twelve year old could.

Siegfried finally lunged at her, but instead of attacking, feinted to grab her sword, before knocking her back, weaponless.

"Drop the shard, Amy," Siegfried commanded. "It's poisoned your mind and your body."

The shard was still visible in her hand, its dark energy seeping into her through veins reddened by the mere contact with it. Her face remained staunch and expressionless, and she reached forward, summoning her Albion back to her.

The blade sliced through leather and skin in Siegfried's gauntleted hand, and he gasped out, released his hold, letting the blade fly back to the girl's hand. No sooner had it reached her grip, when Ivy's whip snapped out, wrapping around the tiny girl's frame, binding her arms to her body, holding her fast.

"Kill her!" Ivy shouted. "Now!"

Siegfried approached the girl, before slapping the side of her head with the flat of his blade.

The shard went flying, and Amy's body went limp.

Ivy checked the body. Still breathing.

"Merciful fool!" Ivy accused, throwing Siegfried a spiteful glare. "That kind of sympathy is only going to get you killed!"

"If I'm lucky," Siegfried nodded, sheathing his sword. "I can only hope I die in an effort to save an innocent's life."

Ivy closed her eyes in frustration. "She is hardly what I'd call innocent."

"Ivy, look at her," Siegfried said, picking up the shard and returning it to his pocket. "She was under the influence of Soul Edge. She doesn't know any better."

Ivy snorted, annoyed, but instead of commenting, she eyed the tattered remains of her whip.

"Scratch one bullwhip," Ivy sighed. "How badly did she hurt your hand?"

Siegfried drew off his glove. "Not badly."

He winced when Ivy seized his hand to get a good look for herself.

A clean incision cut straight across his palm from left to right, and was still bleeding.

"My God!" Ivy gapped. "You won't be able to fight with this!"

"Sure I will," Siegfried nodded, matter of factly. "I'm left handed. You don't grab the blade of your opponent's weapon with your sword hand."

"Still…" Ivy chided, tearing off a cloth from her cloak. "That's what you get for being so soft."

"If it's to save the life of an innocent, then I don't mind taking a few blows," Siegfried said, solemnly. "That's what I've decided."

Ivy shook her head as she bound his hand. "You damn fool…"

It might have sounded like a condescending reprimand, but Siegfried couldn't help but notice that Ivy had been smiling as she had said it.

xxxxx

A/N: Moving right along – and adding three more pages than the last two chapters. If I'd have stopped at the last number, I would have cut it off right in the middle of their fight with Amy, and I didn't want that.

I have the next bit of the story all planned out, it's all a question of how many chapters it will take. I'm planning on making this story at least five chapters, but the way it's looking, it'll be closer to ten.


	4. Chapter 4

**Soul Caliber Fan Fiction**

**Lost Souls**

By Kraven Ergeist

Chapter Four

CLANG!

Metal clashed on metal as Siegfried dueled, probably for his life, if this fighter had anything to say about it.

CLANG!

The gladiator was good, Siegfried had to admit. One of the few people who could wield a zweihander almost as well as he could.

CLANG!

Almost.

Siegfried brought his sword up from his chief stance, sending his opponent flying. He let out a war whoop as he brought his sword down on the helpless airborne gladiator, sending him crashing to the ground. It didn't kill him, but he would certainly be sore in the morning.

"The winner – 'The White Knight!'" came the voice of the announcer.

Nobody used their real names in gladiatorial arenas, and Siegfried wasn't inclined to break the mold. Without looking back, he slung the Requiem over his shoulder and left the caged area, stepping back into the confines of the lakeside coliseum.

"_This_ is your plan for easy money?" Ivy asked, condescendingly.

"You think your body will sell for more?"

"Not funny."

Siegfried wiped his brow. It was his third match today – he was at his limit. These were experienced fighters, and he hadn't managed to make it out completely unscathed.

"How much did you win on me?" Siegfried asked.

"For that match? A hundred gold. For the day's winnings, a good two hundred and fifty."

Siegfried smiled. "Add that to the fifty crowns a match I earned, that puts us at four hundred crowns. Another day of this, and we'll have more than enough to commission a vessel for Athens. We could probably negotiate a craft straight out Rome if we hedge our bets."

Ivy sighed, clearly unimpressed. "Great. So, what do you have planned in the meantime? Another match?"

Siegfried shook his head. "Oh no, I'm exhausted. I'm hitting the tavern and getting some shuteye. Tomorrow, though, I'll be back in the arena."

Ivy rolled her eyes. "Men."

"You don't like it, I know a number of brothels that'll hire part time."

"The next time you so much as mention prostitution, I'm going to make it so that the subject no longer interests you," Ivy said with a glare that implied no nonsense. "Catch my drift?"

Siegfried backed off. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…but in all fairness, you were the first to bring it up."

"Siegfried…" Ivy said in a progressively elevating voice that was clearly threatening.

"Tavern. Now. Got it." Siegfried was off. Clearly, Ivy wasn't in the mood for games.

He had scarcely gotten five feet from her, when he heard the unmistakable sound of her voice.

"Wait a minute…what do you mean, 'you know a number of brothels!'"

Siegfried decided to walk faster.

He managed to elude the woman for the remainder of the evening. Which was probably a good thing – they had been in each other's company for over a week, and were starting to get to one another. It was a good idea to spend some time away from each other to catch their breath.

But in all fairness, Siegfried thought as he reminisced to all that had transpired over their journey together, Ivy was amazing to be around. She was vibrant, fiery and dangerous. She kept him on his toes, and he actually managed to have fun while doing it. She was astonishingly beautiful, and she could clearly take care of herself. And in terms of sheer erudition, she outclassed him tenfold.

Too bad it'd never work between them, Siegfried thought, sadly. Once this was all over, they would go down their separate paths. And even if they did stay together, they both had far too many demons to commingle on any level deeper than what they already had.

Siegfried took another pull of his glass and sighed. He needed to focus on the here and the now. Tomorrow's matches wouldn't be any easier, and he still had his wounds to contend with. Food, ale, and a good night's sleep only went so far.

"Just have to tough it out, I suppose…" Siegfried sighed, knocking back the last of his ale.

They had managed to reach Rome in one piece. Siegfried had reluctantly left Amy behind, but had taken the shard with him. He wasn't sure what to do with it – he didn't have Master Olcadan's chemical burners. He knew a normal fire would only separate the shard from any other materials at best. He didn't know of anything that could neutralize something like…

Then it hit him.

"Kilik…"

He had encountered the man before on his journey to stop Soul Edge. His staff had the ability to absorb energy, good or bad, without effect. Under the terms they had left by, Kilik wasn't likely to be offering him any favors. But hopefully, he would overlook Siegfried's past for the sake of neutralizing what they both new was evil.

It was his best shot.

"Not exactly on the way…" Siegfried muttered to himself.

Perhaps another solution would present itself.

He wondered what Ivy was doing at that moment. Probably wandering about town, looking for something to take her mind off things. He wasn't worried about her getting into any fights. Even outnumbered, he was confident she could handle anything Rome had to offer. If anything, he should be worried about the unlucky folks who thought to take advantage of her.

He shrugged it off – despite the shard in his pocket, the remnant of Soul Edge that had made up her sword were safely disposed of. The lack of the evil presence had slowly been weaning down on Ivy's malevolent edge, at least a little. It was enough, however, for him to be convinced that at very least, she wouldn't _kill_ anyone, at least, who didn't truly deserve it.

Siegfried sighed, and asked for a second drink. When it came, he downed the thing in one go.

"Damn…she's already got me stressed to my breaking point, and we're not even having an affair."

Maybe it was a good thing nothing was destined to come of their relationship.

When he woke the next day, Ivy was nowhere to be found. The rumpled bed sheets (They had actually managed to get two beds at this inn) suggested she had came and went. She was probably still in a bad mood and didn't want to see him. He could hardly blame her.

"Maybe I shouldn't tease her so much," Siegfried sighed, changing the dressing on his injuries. His upper body was covered with bruises, and a nasty cut that was already starting to get infected ran down the outside of his left thigh. His hands were also covered with blisters from overworking his swordsmanship, and the cut on his hand he had received from Amy still hadn't fully healed.

It wouldn't be a fun day.

He started his day with some hot tea. Normally, the day after a hard battle, he liked to drown himself in ale to numb his senses in order to deal with the pain, but with another round of fighting yet to come, he couldn't afford to be anything but sober.

His first match wasn't too difficult. His opponent wore a shawl that covered his entire face, and was known simply as Assassin. For someone whose namesake suggested an expert killer, he went down fairly easily.

His leg wound had reopened, however, and his next fight promised to be challenging.

"Double or nothing?" Siegfried asked, astonished.

"That's right," the arena master said. "The champion wants a shot at ye. He's got to protect his title and all that."

Siegfried groaned. "I'm leaving Rome in a day anyway. It's not like I'm trying to steal his thunder."

The arena master just shrugged. "I warned ye, didn't I? About winning too much?"

"Right, right…" Siegfried sighed. "So, who's this champion?"

He found out a few minutes later.

"In this corner," The announcer called over the megaphone. "The challenger, the White Knight!"

Siegfried was met with a hail of booing.

"And in this corner, your champion, the mighty Rock!"

Siegfried found himself going toe to toe with a massive, Cro-Magnon looking man.

SMASH!

The arena was getting demolished by the second! Rock's weapon a choice, an enormous, meter-long mace, was smashing through rubble like it was nothing.

Siegfried strained and dodged again. If he landed so much as a single blow…

Siegfried spun himself around, holding his sword behind his back in his chief stance, before bringing it down on the man's antlered crown.

The attack left him rattled, but clearly not down.

What was this man _made_ of?

Siegfried's left pant leg was stained red, and every move pumped more blood out of him. He was losing focus. With sweat dripping down his face and his long blond hair constantly obscuring his vision, he wasn't quite sure he'd be able to win this fight without doing some real damage.

He knew that everything was fair game in the coliseum, but this was this man's livelihood. If Siegfried crippled him, he'd be out of house and home. He didn't know if he had a family or loved ones who he was supporting by doing this, and Siegfried had no right to take that away from him.

Siegfried dodged left, just in time to miss being pummeled again by the massive mace.

Ivy was right. His sympathetic nature was going to get him killed!

The femur, then. Broken legs heal faster and stronger than any bone in the body, and the thighbone was solid bone, and had the best chance of healing properly. He would have selected an arm, but he suspected a wound like that wouldn't deter a man like Rock. No, it had to be the thighbone. Rock would be out of work for a month or two, but at least he wouldn't be out of commission for life.

He blocked a blow that was intended for his head, but was knocked to the ground for his trouble. He looked up in time to see Rock raising his mace to smash him while he was down.

Siegfried was on his feet faster than Rock could react. Rising from the ground, he swung his sword, first knocking the mace from his hand, and the second time delivering a fierce blow to his right thigh, wincing as he heard the bone snap.

Rock was down, but even as his face contorted in pain, he managed to keep his eyes on his opponent.

"You fight good, sir knight," he coughed out in a tone that told him he expected to be killed.

"I avoided your vitals," Siegfried informed him. "You'll live."

Rock shut his mouth, a look that came close to gratitude visible in his eye.

Bowing his head, Siegfried limped out of the arena, using his sword as a walking stick.

That double or nothing had better have been worth it.

"Siegfried!" came a familiar voice, and suddenly he felt his arm being slung over Ivy's shoulders.

"Ivy…" Siegfried said, weakly. "You came back?"

"Of course I came back," Ivy shook her head. "Now let me see your wounds."

"I'm fine," Siegfried breathed. "Really. A stiff drink and I'll be right as rain."

Ivy sighed. That confirmed it.

"That was reckless, you know?" she chided.

"I know," Siegfried nodded. "I'm done with the arena. Did you manage to place any bets?"

Ivy held up two bags of gold, one significantly larger than the other.

"On both matches. We're set."

"Both?" Siegfried blinked. "There were three matches."

Ivy gasped. "Three!"

Then she saw the smile on Siegfried's face.

"I swear – if that barbarian hadn't already done such a good job, I would _clobber_ you!"

Siegfried smiled. Same old Ivy.

"Thank you," he sighed.

"For what?"

"For coming back."

Ivy blinked, unsure of herself. "Oh…well, of course…" Then, she seemed to catch herself. "I mean, of course I came back! You still owe me a sword! I'm not letting you out of my sight until you've repaid your debt!"

Siegfried sighed. Yep. Same old Ivy.

The next day, the two fighters were on a ship bound for Athens, though Siegfried was still limping around the deck. Ivy kept insisting that he stay below deck and rest, but one of the symptoms of being under Soul Edge's influence for so long seemed to be being prone to cabin fever.

"I'm exhausted just watching you," Ivy jeered. "Would you just settle down!"

"Sorry," Siegfried winced. "I just don't like being in one place for too long."

"Neither do I," Ivy said. "But I don't pace nervously when I am."

Siegfried smiled apologetically and leaned against the railing next to her on the ship.

"Ivy…can I ask you something personal?"

"Depends on how personal."

Siegfried drew in his breath. "Before…you said that from your adolescence onward, your life had been nothing but insanity. What exactly happened to cause all that?"

Ivy remained silent for a long while, and Siegfried started to get the feeling that he had made her vastly uncomfortable.

"You don't…have to answer if you don't want to…"

More silence. Ivy was staring off into the distant waters.

"Right," Siegfried said, turning away. "It was a stupid question."

"When I was a girl…"

Siegfried returned his attention to her.

"I didn't exactly fit in with the noble crowd. I hated my father, even then. I would avoid him as much as possible during the day…sneak out of the house at night…my life became one of secrecy, of moments stolen away from my family. There became such a schism between me and him, it became unbearable for me to even talk to him."

Ivy shifted uncomfortably.

"Then, when I was sixteen, I started getting…involved with a young man named Jack. Not the most reputable sorts, got into fights a lot, wasn't above stealing, but had a good sense of humor. We were…we thought we were happy. But then my father found out about him."

Siegfried's eyes widened. "What happened?"

"He was furious. He refused to let me out of the house, which of course just made me more mad at him. I never spoke with him after that. Then one night, Jack snuck into the manor."

Siegfried raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

Ivy was too lost in thought to notice. "Jack visited me night after night, and each time felt more and more risky. My father began to grow suspicious of me after waking up tired and…slightly bruised…"

Siegfried gulped, uncomfortably.

"Then one night…he caught us, red handed. I had thought that he would simply reprimand me, maybe even beat me. But nothing could have prepared me for what that monster did next…"

Siegfried drew in his breath.

"He killed Jack…" Ivy's lip was trembling. "Just like that. But he wasn't finished. He grabbed me…threw me on the bed and…and…"

Siegfried put his hands on her shoulders. "You don't have to say it…"

Ivy looked up at him with tear soaked eyes, and sighed in gratitude, seeing that he understood.

"I never let another man touch me for god knows how long," Ivy breathed. "I would lie, cheat, steal, and kill…whatever it took…but it was years before I could even stand for a man to even _look_ at me…"

Siegfried nodded, solemnly. "I'm sorry."

Ivy shrugged it off. "I won't even bother explaining why it's not your fault."

Siegfried shook his head. "No, not that. Actually, I was apologizing for what I said earlier…I thought that it was in jest, but I didn't know that you might be hurt by it."

Ivy blinked. "Oh…"

"One thing confuses me though…" Siegfried asked. "Obviously, this is a sensitive subject to you…but the way you dress, the way you act, your style of combat, everything about your outward appearance is so…"

Ivy smiled, wryly. "Yes…?"

Siegfried cleared his throat. "It's, um…it's obvious that you're using your body as a weapon. For someone with a past like yours…why…?"

"Simple…" Ivy explained. "It's a question of who I'm dealing with. It's one thing for a wretched nobody to ogle over me, and it's usually beneficial, whether I'm trying to get information or fending for my life. It's not like they'll ever get to touch me."

Siegfried rolled his eyes. "Not if you lose."

"That's why I never lose," Ivy smiled. "But it's quite another thing when somebody I know and respect sees me as a sexual object."

Siegfried just about swallowed his tongue. "Ivy…you _know_ I know better than that. I already apologized for the jokes I made at yours expense, but just so you know, I consider you one of the cleverest, bravest, most formidable fighters I've ever come to know. You're wiser and more spirited than I could ever claim to be, and you outclass me entirely in terms of culture. For all accounts, Ivy, you stand head and shoulders above me – and not just in the physical sense."

It had not gone unnoticed to Ivy that she stood a full head taller than Siegfried. That fact, however, was far from Ivy's thoughts at the moment.

"Why…thank you…" she said, somewhat aghast. "You're…you're probably the first man who's ever complimented me on anything but my looks."

Siegfried nodded. "I know it wasn't easing sharing your past with me. Thank you for trusting me with that."

Ivy eyed the man speculatively. "Were you testing me?"

"In a way…" Siegfried admitted. "We've been traveling together on this god forsaken voyage for weeks, and the deeper we get into this mess, the more I feel we'll be needing to rely on each other. It's very reassuring for me to know that you feel that you can place that level of trust in me."

Ivy smiled, wryly. "That's all well and good. But do I have your trust as well?"

Siegfried didn't miss a beat. "As a knight of the Holy Roman Empire-"

"No," Ivy said, silencing him with a hand on his lips. "I don't care about what your knight's code has to say. Do _you_, Siegfried Schtauffen, feel that you can place your trust in me?"

Ivy almost laughed as Siegfried's face turned a very funny shade of red at her touch. But she said nothing and waited for him to collect himself.

"I do."

Ivy smiled. It was the first genuine smile she had ever given him.

The moment, however, didn't last.

"Wait a minute…" Siegfried said, looking back out over the horizon. "I know this place. Why are we coming here?"

Ivy followed his gaze and saw that they were approaching an island. But this was an island they both knew well.

"Oh my God…" Ivy breathed.

The two of them rushed up the deck to the captain quarters and Siegfried pounded on the doors.

"Come in."

The two of them entered to face the captain. His name was Francis Porter, a congenial looking man. Not the sort of person who looked like they might betray someone, particularly someone who was paying good money for transport.

"Can I help you?"

"Captain," Siegfried said hurriedly. "Is that the Isle de Vercci up ahead?"

The captain's eyes turned grim. "I'm afraid it is. How do you know of it?"

"Why are we headed there?"

"Just a little pit stop," Captain Porter explained. "We just pay a small…'sales tax'…to purchase safe passage through the Mediterranean. Lord Vercci holds quite a heavy sway over these waters."

Ivy gritted her teeth. "You fool! Lord Vercci has been dead for seven years!"

The captain's eyes widened. "You're sure?"

"When was the last time you've ever spoken to him?"

"I…" Captain Porter sighed. "Never. He sends his minion out to handle all the transactions."

Just then, they heard the distant thud of the ship pulling up next to a port.

"Listen, it's too late to get out of today's transaction," Siegfried warned. "If you pull away now, you'll be a target. But if you just go ahead as though it's business as usual, you can go about the rest of your expeditions free of charge."

Captain Porter looked stern. "What's one minion going to do? Excuse me for a moment, I'm going to go down there and personally ascertain Lord Vercci's fate."

Siegfried's eyes widened as the man left. "That's not a good idea…"

They followed him out, but stopped in their tracks as they saw the cave they were in. Above the stone and wooden dock there sat a statue of a man – Vercci – resting on a throne of sorts, watching over the island cave.

"The money pit…" Ivy breathed. "This is bad. We have to get out of here!"

Siegfried nodded. "Agreed. But…without the Captain…"

Captain Porter was already making his way down the gangplank to a deserted dock.

"Hello?" he called. "Is anybody there?"

His calls were answered as a sickly looking man limped his way out of the mist, approaching the ship.

"Oh, good it's you," Captain Porter said, the insincerity of his mood all but evident. For all the politeness in his voice, the oncoming figure, Vercci's minion, absolutely disgusted him. But, being a tradesman, the captain understood the importance of being civilized, even to those who were not necessarily pleasant.

Voldo was anything but pleasant. All but bent over backwards, his body was wrapped in something surprisingly similar to Ivy's purple garment, but not nearly as flattering. Both his eyes and his mouth were covered by the same purple straps, and he bore a pair of nasty looking weapons strung to his belt loop.

Siegfried and Ivy were just about frozen solid when they saw him. A single thought passed through their heads at the same time.

"Ok," Siegfried said, barely above a whisper. "We're hiding."

"You bet your _ass_ we are!" Ivy hissed and the two of them dashed below deck.

Meanwhile, the captain was trying to make sense of Voldo's hisses and grunts. He eventually decided to make good on his payment, just for the sake of getting his ship and his crew out of there. But that didn't seem to please the minion.

Finally, Captain Porter let the viceling prod his way up the gangplank. He couldn't begin to imagine what it was he wanted. He seemed to be sniffing the air, relying on his nose, his ears, and sense of touch.

Nervous, he watched the creature stalk below deck.

Ivy and Seigfried were huddled in a storage area, barrels and crates stacked up around them in a labyrinth of plywood fixtures.

"What's that?" Ivy whispered.

"What?" Siegfried asked.

"Something's poking me in the back."

"What? Oh, my sword."

"Your _what_!"

"My sword."

Ivy saw him hold up the hilt of his zweihander, which had, indeed, been pressing against her back.

"Oh…" Ivy breathed. "_That_ sword."

Siegfried blinked. "Wait…what?"

"Shh…" Ivy shushed as they saw the viceling lurking his way down the narrow storehouse, poking his head here and there, sniffing the air, getting ever closer.

"Siegfried…" Ivy mouthed. "The shard!"

Siegfried stifled a curse. Of course! The shard in his pocket! The viceling could sniff it out! There'd be nowhere for them to hide!

Slowly, Voldo approached them, his blind eyes observing nothing, his bound tongue grunting at each moment that its scent had not yielded results. He pricked up his ears and sniffed the air. It was close! So close now, he could almost _feel_ it!

He yanked back a storage crate and found what he was looking for:

A black shard of Soul Edge, lying on the deck floor.

Gleefully, Voldo picked it up, practically scampering back outside.

Elsewhere, Siegfried and Ivy caught their breath.

"Are you sure that was a good idea?" Ivy asked. "That shard is dangerous in the hands of someone like him!"

"And if he catches us and kills us?" Siegfried said. "Who is left to stop Soul Edge?"

"We could have taken him!"

"I'm not so sure," Siegfried admonished. "With me still injured and you unarmed?"

"I still have my prototype!"

"It's too much to risk, Ivy," Siegfried said. "It's-"

That's when they heard screams coming from above deck. Exchanging a glance, the two of them slowly climbed the stairs and peaked their heads over to see what had happened. There, they saw Voldo, holding Captain Porter by his collar, shaking the shard (and the captain) around, violently.

"I swear, I have no idea how it got here!" the captain shouted, desperately. Around him, his crewmates had drawn swords, but were hesitant to attack the mysterious creature.

Voldo hissed, threateningly, waving the shard around in his hand.

"If you want it so badly, just take it!" the captain allowed, dangling helplessly over the deck. "I've got no use for it!"

Ivy felt the knight beside her tense as Voldo drew one of his claw blades, rearing his arm back to shove the triple points through the captain's chest.

"He's going to kill him!" Siegfried hissed.

"Siegfried, no!" Ivy spat back, grabbing him by the shoulder.

But the knight broke free of her grip and charged the poor captain, knocking Voldo down, sending the captain – and the shard Voldo was carrying – sprawling across the deck.

The crewmembers rose to the occasion to defend their captain, lunging after Voldo, who donned his second claw blade and fended them off, sending sailors flying.

"Great!" Ivy spat, crawling out of the hold and onto deck.

Siegfried was lying on his face, grimacing in pain at his reopened wound. He looked up and saw the shard lying on the deck and began a desperate crawl for it.

Voldo flung off another swashbuckling crewmember and smelt rather than saw his shard and the fool who thought to relieve him of it. Lunging in anger, he sunk his blades into Siegfried's shoulders, pinning him to the deck.

Siegfried screamed out in pain, as Voldo crawled off his back, reaching for the shard.

CRACK!

Voldo's arm was suddenly snared by Ivy's whip. Glaring at him, she yanked back, sending the viceling sprawling to the other side of the deck.

"Siegfried!" she called out, going to his side.

He was hurt badly, his blood pooling around his chest.

"The shard!" he grunted, wincing in agony. "Get the shard!"

She looked up and caught site of the black living metal, when she suddenly heard Voldo's thunderous approach. She turned and just barely dodged as Voldo tumbled past her.

She recovered and turned her eyes to the viceling, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Voldo had turned his body into a kind of wheel, bending over backwards to grab his feet, and rolling his body to attack her.

He uncoiled and sniffed the air for the shard. Finding it on the ground, he turned his back to Ivy.

Big mistake.

His legs suddenly flew out from under him, Ivy's whip snagging him by the ankles.

Ivy smirked. "You're not going anywhere."

Evidently, Voldo thought otherwise. Digging his claws into the deck, he displayed a surprising bit of strength by flipping his body over backwards, landing his feet on the deck before him, and in the process, yanking Ivy's whip from her grip. Voldo idly sliced the whip of his leg, all while remaining in an impossibly backward crawl.

Ivy bit her lip. That was her last whip! Drawing her broadsword, she lunged the beast, intent on plunging the blade into his exposed stomach.

But a heightened sense of hearing, smell, and touched had increased Voldo's reaction times to a trigged pull, and rolled over, returning to his ridiculous spider like crawl.

Ivy attacked again, but he rolled again, this time into another wheel, which turned and charged her.

She dodged again, just in time to see Voldo return to his feet, standing proudly over the shard.

Ivy reacted fast. Drawing her prototype blade, she kissed it for luck.

"I hope this works…"

With that, she plunged the blade into the deck.

At first, nothing happened. Voldo bent over, reaching for the shard.

Then…

SMASH!

The tip of the prototype blade broke through the deck, right below the shard, sending it flying through the air.

Ivy opened her hand and caught it.

"Yes…I've still got the edge…"

Voldo hissed menacingly at her, baring his claws.

"Come on…" Ivy crowed mockingly, waving the shard around as bait.

The viceling practically spat as he lunged for it.

Ivy's reaction was like clockwork, catching the psychopath in the alchemic chain of her sword, which threw him into the air. The chain shattered, and each of the blades sliced through the air, keeping him locked in a juggle, lashing at his skin, sending his body twirling in the air.

Ivy gritted her teeth. She could not keep this up longer than a few seconds at best. Her prototype just didn't have the steam for it. Bending all of her will into the blade, she steered the swirling mass of blades towards the edge of the railing.

The blades gave out a second later and reconnected to the chain, leaving Voldo tumbling into the sea.

Ivy leaned over the edge and cursed as she saw him swim for shore.

Then she remembered Siegfried.

"You!" Ivy hollered to the captain. "Get us out of here!"

The captain nodded. "You don't have to tell me twice!"

The crew who were uninjured weighed the sails and cast off the ship, leaving the isle behind. Those that could be spared tended the wounded, included the injured Siegfried.

When Ivy came to his side, he was looking pale, but alive.

And more importantly, awake.

"You blooming _idiot_!" Ivy was tempted to throttle the man. "You're such a fool, Siegfried! If you were planning on fighting that monster, than at least don't give him the shard first!"

Siegfried just smiled weakly at her. "Sorry…"

Ivy glared. "Don't 'sorry' me! You risked your life and mine _and_ a shard of Soul Edge, and for _what_! To save the life of someone you don't even know!"

Siegfried closed his eyes. "Sorry…but this is what I am. I had to, Ivy. For my life to mean anything, I had to save him, do you understand? I had to…that's all I have to say."

Ivy squeezed the bridge of her nose. "And 'you're smegging insane' is what I have to say in response to that!"

Siegfried tried smiling. "You sound like you were worried."

Ivy suddenly caught herself blushing, before glaring even more fiercely at him. "And so what if I am! If you die, my sword's as good as gone! I can't have you dying on me like that! Now hurry up and get better, you dolt! You're no use to me in this state you're in!"

Siegfried just chuckled as Ivy pouted, looking the other way. She hadn't left his side, though. And unless his eyes were deceiving him, she was still blushing.

Siegfried smiled, closing his eyes again.

Same old Ivy.

xxxxx

A/N: Whoo! Longest chapter yet! And my next chapter is already underway! Moving right along, moving right along!


End file.
